


So Dawn Goes Down to Day

by anon_nom_nom



Category: Green Lantern (2011)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Male Friendship, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-22
Updated: 2011-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anon_nom_nom/pseuds/anon_nom_nom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few expansions to some scenes at the end of the movie, including a reason for some of the characters to be at a place to do a thing.  Here be spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Dawn Goes Down to Day

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: DC and the WB own the following characters, situations, concepts, and world.

In Sinestro's experience, Lanterns who arrived on Oa stinking of fear never stopped.

Fear-filled Lanterns flailed on until the day they died, usually taking innocent lives or other Lanterns with them. It was why he'd trounced Hal Jordan, ignoring the glares of his teachers: they couldn't afford anything less than united strength against this enemy. If he'd been worthy of Abin Sur's ring, it wouldn't have been possible to scare him off. Sinestro had thought he'd saved his worthless life.

So when Hal Jordan had come back, landed directly before the Guardians, accused them of being afraid, argued with Sinestro's plan, tried to muster a defense for his world, and asked to be sent alone when he failed—it wasn't the _last_ thing Sinestro expected, but it was certainly somewhere on the list. The human had even said he'd come up against Fear already and won. It was hard to believe he was the same person at all.

Standing in an antechamber overlooking the slow turn of the yellow knot awash in roiling green, Sinestro was alone with his thoughts. Bathed in the glow of Will to assist control, the ring-forging process was slow enough to assure the Guardians that they were not making the same mistake twice. Hands folded behind his back, Sinestro awaited its completion so he could begin learning its power. Nothing could be done until then: both attack and defense depended on the function of the new ring.

And yet, the more he considered Hal Jordan's transformation, the odder it seemed. Part of him was aware that he was focusing on an irrelevancy to avoid thinking about Parallax, but it was nigh incomprehensible that a human should shed his fear after encountering the emotion's true nature. Parallax now might be a shadow of what he was when Abin Sur imprisoned him, and Sinestro was unsure how exactly Hal Jordan had confronted him, but he shouldn't have come back so collected. Not where the best Lanterns had failed.

Great threats inspired fear rather than purging it. In the face of Parallax, Sinestro himself was compelled to resist its traitorous tug. A human's resistance was surprising, intriguing, and not a little humbling.

However, the most disturbing part was not Hal Jordan himself, but the Guardians' reaction to his accusation: they had not denied their fear. It was deeply uncomfortable, that there were powers in the universe that could not be overcome by the Green Lantern Corps. If the power of will was insufficient, then the tool of the enemy must be used.

It was no different than adopting any other enemy tactic or technology, and fear was obviously more powerful. With well-trained will to master it, they would not fail as Parallax had. The prospect of harnessing that power rather than fighting it was... tantalizing. That a mere human had grown stronger after acknowledging his fear suggested that it might indeed be conquered to serve will.

Sinestro blinked, his hands unclasping and falling to his sides. Thanks to that human, they now knew Parallax's location. Though Hal Jordan might have made a good Lantern in time, his lack of training assured he would occupy Parallax for scant moments. The planet, though—that would take time to consume, making this an opportunity to discover the enemy's final strength before he assaulted Oa. The ring would not be completed for awhile, but a better defense might be mounted with this knowledge.

And at least one Lantern might bear witness to the death of Hal Jordan.

Leaving the antechamber, he strode outside and prepared to lift off, but found himself flanked by the former teachers of the human in question. How they'd located him was a mystery, but Tomar-Re landed with silent finesse while Kilowog dropped heavily to the platform.

"We heard Hal Jordan returned and spoke to the Guardians of the Universe," said Tomar-Re, proving the Lantern Corps was nothing more than a giant rumor mill. "We were told he arrived while you were speaking with them."

"What did he say?" asked Kilowog. He crossed his arms as though to hide his curiosity about his erstwhile student.

"He believes Parallax will attack his world next," said Sinestro. In retrospect, he was not entirely certain where Hal Jordan had acquired his information. "He came to beg for help."

Kilowog let out a derisive huff.

"So he's not interested in the Corps as long as it doesn't benefit him," he said, "but comes running as soon as he needs us. Typical."

"Where is he?" asked Tomar-Re.

"He has returned to Earth to fight Parallax alone," said Sinestro. Kilowog uncrossed his arms in surprise.

"The Guardians refused his request to help him defend Earth," surmised Tomar-Re. "Could he not be convinced to stay and fight a battle that is not hopeless?"

"If it's so bad the Guardians won't help, we don't have time for him to find whatever the ring saw in him," said Kilowog. "Besides, he had about an afternoon's worth of training. He'd be more dangerous to us than Parallax."

"If he wishes to die on his own world," said Tomar-Re, "Parallax may destroy his ring, and a replacement will not arrive in time to fight with us."

"One more won't matter," said Kilowog. "Whether he dies here or there is beside the point."

"You believe we will fail," said Sinestro, voice hard. Surely his own Lanterns could not be afraid already.

"I believe Parallax has killed everyone who's gone up against him so far, and nothing has changed," said Kilowog.

For some reason, Sinestro thought not of the yellow ring in the chamber below, but Abin Sur's successor, suddenly more full of will than fear. Freed from that yellow cloud, Hal Jordan's mix of personality traits were unmistakably reminiscent of his ring's previous owner, though there was no reason to believe he had anything like the power of his predecessor.

"Anyway, Sinestro, you were right about him," Kilowog continued. "He was scared of being a Lantern. Now he must be scared of Parallax. He'd be a liability."

"He _is_ still afraid?" asked Tomar-Re, reading something in Sinestro's expression.

"No," said Sinestro.

"What?" said Kilowog. "Why didn't we help him, then?"

"The Guardians put the safety of Oa first," said Sinestro. "A new weapon is being made for the final stand; it will be ready soon, but not soon enough for Earth. He's on his own."

Tomar-Re shook his head.

"A planet is about to be destroyed, and we do nothing," he said.

"If we divert Parallax, he'll go straight for Oa," said Kilowog, frustrated green energy crackling from his shoulders. "Isn't there something we can do? We can't be _helpless._ "

"Honor their memories," said Tomar-Re, "and defeat Parallax."

"This is an opportunity to observe Parallax," said Sinestro. "He will be occupied with consuming Earth. It is possible he has a weakness we have yet to exploit, or we can discover the method of his use of fear."

"He easily defeated a dozen Lanterns," said Kilowog, nodding. "Three won't seem like a threat to him, and we don't have to go close. What do you say? Scouting mission?"

He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders, glancing at his companion, who nodded. The two looked to Sinestro as though for permission. He turned toward the sky.

"Let's go."

* * *

When they arrived, there was a perplexing minimum of destruction to Earth. Parallax was nowhere to be found.

It took them a moment to detect and follow the green blur pursued by dark and gold.

"He flees," said Kilowog, starting forward. Sinestro stopped him with an arm across his chest.

"He's drawing Parallax away," said Tomar-Re. "Their star...."

Hal Jordan blasted toward his sun, Parallax following behind in rage. As the combatants entered the corona, the three Lanterns stopped well out of range. The ring protected a Lantern from temporal and shearing effects of gravity, but the heat and pull of a star was well beyond its capabilities.

The human plunged straight in anyway, far beyond safe limits. Were it not for their power, Parallax and Hal Jordan would be seared to atoms already. It took some effort to watch what was happening—when Sinestro found the two dark spots amid the blinding torrent of radiation, Hal Jordan had summoned jets to drag him away. Against all odds, it seemed he might escape victorious.

Almost. Parallax surged up behind him, also resisting the gravity's inexorable drag despite his far greater mass.

In silence they watched as Hal Jordan's constructs failed when he turned to punch Parallax— _to punch Parallax—_ over the final threshold, beyond recovery from the star's gravity. In doing so, any chance at escape slipped away for both of them. They fell together.

Parallax burned.

Hal Jordan's body slackened, lax in the void, the last of his energy used by the green fist. The incontrovertible pull of gravity overcame the small boost gained from pushing against Parallax, and he dropped toward his death.

"Can we help _now_?" asked Kilowog, but Sinestro was already gone.

From a recoverable distance, he produced long arms to retrieve the lost Lantern. Curling around him, they slowed and stopped his fall. Gently they pulled him away from the star, vanishing when he reached safety.

Kilowog and Tomar-Re drifted up beside him as Hal Jordan briefly regained consciousness, and Sinestro remembered something he should not have forgotten, blinded by the anger that shielded his grief.

The ring didn't make mistakes.

* * *

Hal's first thought before he opened his eyes had nothing to do with Parallax or Hector or Carol or jets or the slow-burning panic about losing his job. His first thought was that possibly the weirdest part of this entire affair was that 'alien planet' was now on the list of places he might be waking up.

The bed was hard enough to be alien, anyway. Unless it was a floor, which was not out of the question.

Or some government agency had kidnapped him, and that sick, fuzzy feeling was sedatives. This was also fairly plausible, so he opened his eyes.

Oa.

Lying on a similar shelf to the first time (what on Earth had his life become, that this had happened to him more than once?), he took in the skyline through a wide opening where a wall would have been on Earth. In the distance, irregular green rain fell from the empty sky.

Sinestro stood in front of the opening, waiting there since whatever architects built Oa didn't seem to believe in chairs or exterior walls. He turned when Hal shifted to one elbow.

"You used all your willpower," he said. "I don't know how much training you managed to absorb before you fled, but expending the entirety of your willpower leaves you temporarily vulnerable. We brought you here to recover."

Hal let out a groan, pressing a hand to his forehead. He felt like... every hangover he'd ever had, all at once, plus a vague impotence. And he was covered in cuts, and his shoulder was wounded, and _ow._

"I remember... I had a dream about flying yellow octopuses attacking Earth for... trees," said Hal, sinking back to the slab. His mouth seemed disconnected from his brain at the moment.

Actually, that was probably his default state.

"Impressive," said Sinestro, sounding almost _amused_. "You were asleep for less than an hour."

Something had changed between him and Sinestro. For a moment, he couldn't quite remember what or why—when he did, he sat bolt upright.

"I killed Parallax."

"Yes," said Sinestro. He held out his hand. "And now you must face the consequences."

"What?" asked Hal, allowing himself to be drawn to his feet. "Two weeks' bed rest, waited on by beautiful ladies?"

Sinestro didn't smile. Okay, that wasn't among his better ones. He was already feeling less terrible, but he clearly wasn't at the top of his game.

"Follow."

Turning, Sinestro flew off the platform without answering the question. Rolling his eyes, Hal followed.

Still, he couldn't resist a grin. The thrill of extravehicular flight hadn't worn off any more than vehicular flight had, and the nauseous sensation of empty powerlessness was fading.

As they crossed the city, Hal discovered that the green rain was, in fact, the arrival of many Lanterns. It looked like there was going to be another... whatever had happened the first day he was here. Ahead loomed the place of rocks and pillars where Sinestro had given his speech to the... assembly... thing, while Hal was still utterly clueless about everything. Not that he was much better now.

Tall spires of dark, jagged stone rose around them as they dipped toward the platform. Sinestro glanced back at him and indicated his place with a nod, a step or two behind where Sinestro would address the gathering Lanterns. Kilowog and Tomar-Re stood nearby with some others, who were probably senior Lanterns or something. His two former teachers nodded at him, but said nothing.

Some time passed before the green rain petered off. Hal shifted on his feet a little. He wasn't really nervous after what had happened. In fact, after a suicide mission to fight a giant soul-sucking, world-devouring alien that fed on fear, he might never be nervous again. At least, not while standing around waiting for an announcement or whatever.

But it was uncomfortable, standing up there with the Lanterns he'd rejected. On the other hand, it didn't seem like he was about to be thrown in prison or anything, and nobody looked unduly worried.

After several minutes, Sinestro stepped forward, and the crowd quieted.

Of course, it turned out that Sinestro was just being dramatic—the "consequences" were a short speech about what had transpired and how heroic Hal was, which made him feel stranger than anything else. As far as it went, though, Hal supposed it wasn't too bad: he'd been subjected to worse toasts for PR at some of the more mandatory parties.

At the end, this time he knew to raise his ring with the others, joining in the blast of voice and light as a real Lantern.

Sort of.

Mostly.

As the assembly dispersed, Sinestro turned back to him.

Hal kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but Sinestro gave him what appeared to be an actual compliment, if a backhanded one, and Kilowog seemed almost distressingly eager to train him. Sinestro took off to go... do whatever it was he did, leaving Hal to his own devices.

"If you're ready to be a real Lantern now," said Tomar-Re, a trace of rebuke in his tone, "you need to be prepared to defend not just Earth, but several thousand galaxies. You may have defeated Parallax, but you still need training to understand what you're doing properly."

"Yeah," said Hal. He was a pilot; he knew all about instinct versus knowledge.

"So let's head down to the—" Kilowog began, but Hal interrupted.

"Wait," he said. "There's something I need to do first."

"Yeah," said Kilowog, eying his shoulder. "Visit the medic."

"Okay, there's something I need to do second."

* * *

Kilowog and Tomar-Re were waiting for him on the training grounds when he came back from his goodbye on Earth.

"You done?" asked Kilowog.

Hal's ring glowed.

"I'm all yours, big guy."

* * *

In Sinestro's experience, Lanterns who arrived on Oa stinking of fear never stopped.

He'd been wrong before. He'd thought there was nothing in the universe worthy of a Lantern's fear, but Abin Sur was dead, and Hal Jordan had just demonstrated that fear and will could work in conjunction.

He picked up the yellow ring. It was finished.

The Guardians didn't make mistakes. The one who had become Parallax was right; only his methods were wrong. This power must be accepted to be controlled.

And if the Guardians were afraid now, then they must be reassured that there was nothing the Corps could not defeat. As all warfare evolved by absorbing the enemy's methods, so would the Lanterns grow.

Fear was their weapon now.

Sinestro turned the new ring in his hand, ignoring the voice in his head that belonged to an inexperienced human.

He put it on.


End file.
